You could say I hated Jack Sparrow. People usually do, and aparently
acording to Jack I always have. I was thinking last night, about him. It's
not something I do much, because things are usually too hectic. I bury
myself in work, make sure I don't have to concentrate on my own thoughts
too much, because I'm afraid. Afraid they'll send me mad I suppose. But
last night there was no distraction and, as I said, I was thinking. P
I can remember his face, twisted in horrified confusion. I told him he was no longer captain, and I can remember even better the way his expression changed so rapidly as I handed him the gun. He shook his head at me, an amused smirk curving his lips. He laughed, a soft whispering laugh.br "Would it make you feel better if I just shot myself now?" he murmured, tilting his head chalengingly. I felt a coldness settle in my chest, I couldn't force up the same numbness I'd managed to summon up the last time I'd faced him like this. I said nothing, and saw his face soften. He raised a hand, beckoning to me. I stepped forewards robotically, unable to stop myself, and his hands were behind my head, his lips pressed to mine in a foreceful intoxicating kiss.P
I left him there on that island, and he must be dead by now. I can't imagine him dead, because he's one of those people who's more alive than any one else.P
I only saw him sleeping once, it was stormy weather so he stayed up to steer us through it. It must have been well past dawn when the weather calmed down, and I went up to congratulate him. He looked at me, laughed, and collapsed sideways, fast asleep. I carried him back to his bed, and watched him breathe for at least half an hour.P
I didn't hate him. I respected, liked and adored him. Then he kissed me.br And now I love him.br And now he's dead.br
I can remember his face, twisted in horrified confusion. I told him he was no longer captain, and I can remember even better the way his expression changed so rapidly as I handed him the gun. He shook his head at me, an amused smirk curving his lips. He laughed, a soft whispering laugh.br "Would it make you feel better if I just shot myself now?" he murmured, tilting his head chalengingly. I felt a coldness settle in my chest, I couldn't force up the same numbness I'd managed to summon up the last time I'd faced him like this. I said nothing, and saw his face soften. He raised a hand, beckoning to me. I stepped forewards robotically, unable to stop myself, and his hands were behind my head, his lips pressed to mine in a foreceful intoxicating kiss.P
I left him there on that island, and he must be dead by now. I can't imagine him dead, because he's one of those people who's more alive than any one else.P
I only saw him sleeping once, it was stormy weather so he stayed up to steer us through it. It must have been well past dawn when the weather calmed down, and I went up to congratulate him. He looked at me, laughed, and collapsed sideways, fast asleep. I carried him back to his bed, and watched him breathe for at least half an hour.P
I didn't hate him. I respected, liked and adored him. Then he kissed me.br And now I love him.br And now he's dead.br